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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25785109">Why You're Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluesjeanne/pseuds/Bluesjeanne'>Bluesjeanne</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Torchwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Love, M/M, Mother Gwen, Torchwood - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:20:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25785109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluesjeanne/pseuds/Bluesjeanne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Alien technology helps Jack relive his memories of Ianto, but there’s an unforeseen complication. Can a memory live up to the real thing?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Why You're Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 1</p><p>Jack Harkness knew small things could be dangerous. The two-inch metal device which shined as he held it between his forefinger and thumb was no exception. He had said as much to his new team when they’d found it being sold by the docks.<br/>
Tweezers and gloves had been used to take it from the clueless balding man trying to hock it for 70 quid. He’d grumbled about them confiscating his gold ticket item before Jack traded him a bottle of Scotch; retcon already dissolved in its amber liquid.<br/>
Two years ago, the memory chip-- as its previous owner had called it-- would have been locked up already. Ianto would have insisted upon it. The necessary files would have been filled out, signed, ready to be put away in their proper cabinet. He had always taken his position at Torchwood Three seriously despite it being a job basically created because he was desperate to rejoin the organization. The Welshman had never made that part obvious after his hiring; somehow he’d managed to make it seem like the team had always needed him.<br/>
That was part of the problem now.<br/>
Torchwood Four lacked that administrator who would have stressed that there wasn’t anything else to learn from the chip and it should be locked up, per Jack’s usual orders. It missed someone ready with a smile or a joke, gently encouraging others to move on.<br/>
They already knew what the chip could do; its abilities had been described in the sales pitch. “Relive memories like they’re happening again. Ladies and gents, your mind tells it when to stop whether it’s for five minutes or all night long. Sounds, smells, sights, all senses will make the past the present again. Simply put it on your temple and let your memory flow. It never fails. You never forget.”<br/>
Measurements and tests had already been performed. It apparently worked as promised, no hidden dangers or problems. Somewhere on his desk there was a folder full of reports proving it. Everything had been done with the upmost safety, lest someone got lost in a memory if the pitch had been wrong. Gwen had made sure of it, all too aware of the dangers in their line of work.<br/>
She had headed up most of the research done on the chip. Jack let her take the lead a fair bit these days. He’d practically had to beg her to join the team again when he’d returned to Earth, having given up on escaping the ghosts that still haunted him. It had taken mentioning what Ianto would have wanted to persuade her to juggle motherhood with Torchwood.<br/>
Jack turned the device over again, looking at its slick body from all angles. Ianto would have wanted it locked away as it should have been, and its associated folder in his hands. He would have wanted Jack to forget about work in favour of a night of their choosing. The master coffee brewer would have wanted his boss to put the damn thing away, would have had little problem telling him just that.<br/>
Torchwood’s leader could practically hear Ianto’s quiet voice saying those words. Out of the corner of his eye, he could almost see his former love looking at him from other side of his desk.<br/>
That was the other part of the problem now.<br/>
Jack couldn’t seem to forget Ianto. He’d promised to remember the man forever, but the reminders bombarded him. They lay in his coat, watches, coffee, fast foods, this office, aliens, the night sky—all traitors in Jack’s search for peace. He’d started up the team again to pacify the angry Welshman in his nightmares who demanded he stop running and “stand up.” All the hard work he’d put into rebuilding what had been blown apart nearly a year ago, and still he couldn’t find peace. The hole inside was as big and deep as it had been when he’d buried Ianto. The emptiness still a constant pain that listening to a man long since deceased had failed to lessen.<br/>
Light glinted off the memory chip. Jack leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.<br/>
“As the saying goes, if you can’t beat ‘em…”<br/>
He barely felt the device attach itself to his temple when he placed it there. For once there was no pain, just a momentary feeling of weightlessness as he left the loneliness of reality and slipped into the comfort of memory.<br/>
Jack could feel the arms around him, just as strong as they had been before. The smell of Torchwood Three hung in the air, almost hidden by the familiar scent of a lost man now found. Jack’s eyes were slits as he chanced a look at his surroundings. The scene reinforced what the rest of his senses were telling him. The Hub in the background was as real as ever, as real as the suited man pressing him close.<br/>
He shut his eyes again and savoured the feeling. There was warmth in the circle of limbs holding Jack tight. Their gentle pressure such a welcome relief he wished it would last longer despite knowing it wouldn’t. That’s not how Ianto’s hugs worked, especially in this instance. These were the brief affairs, supposedly thrust upon Jack whether he wanted them or not because he had died again and Ianto thought he needed some comfort. The elder man had never encouraged them, but that had never been a deterrent and he’d secretly been grateful.<br/>
All too soon, Ianto was pulling away and Jack couldn’t stop it. The memory could not be changed. He wished he’d thought of some other time, but this was a moment he’d missed more than he wanted to admit. This was something he’d been remembering too much lately and when presented with the opportunity to experience one moment over again with Ianto, it was this instance that had come to mind.<br/>
His partner was oblivious to Jack’s thoughts; that wasn’t the way the memory had played out. Instead he stepped back, his hands finding a place in his pants pockets and his face giving Jack the sheepish expression it usually donned after these hugs. It always seemed to say “well, there you go then” to Jack; he’d thought it was kind of endearing.<br/>
“Time to get back to work, Sir?”<br/>
The edges of the Hub began to blur behind them and then everything was fading to black. The switch from a bright memory replayed to the dark reality behind eyelids was quick but felt natural. He could hear Ianto’s words to him echoing before he realized he was still in his chair in the new headquarters.<br/>
Jack opened his eyes, blinking a few times as they adjusted to the dimly lit office. Everything was as it had been. The folders on his desk still needed attention. The chip was still attached to his temple. Only now could he faintly feel it pricking his skin. The Hub was still quiet, relatively empty as usual. A quick look at his watch revealed time had passed in synch with the length of the memory. Yet it seemed so much was different now.<br/>
The pain he couldn’t shake was lighter. The thought of Ianto as a man angry at Jack’s actions was replaced by a man offering a comforting hug and warm smile. Jack grinned, feeling good for the first time in far too long.<br/>
“Looks like I finally did something right,” he said to himself as he removed the device. What had to be done was obvious now. The others would wonder if they discovered the alien gizmo missing, probably launch into a lecture or two about what they thought their leader ought to do. Those were problems best avoided so Jack locked it up in the vault, already knowing he’d use it again. Its powers were too good to ignore and no harm had been done. Besides Ianto’s dying wish was that Jack never forget him; the chip would guarantee that.<br/>
Turning back to look at his office, Jack’s smile was still firmly in place. The room wasn’t as dark as it had seemed before he’d made his decision. The files covering his desk really should have been put away already; there were other things to do after all. It’d been ages since he’d visited the Weevils in their holding cells and there were a few other gadgets in the Hub that had needed looking into.<br/>
Ianto had been right; it was time to get back to work.</p><p>Chapter 2</p><p>There he was, trying to look casual at the restaurant’s counter. He was failing, of course. It seemed he could only be misleading if he were smiling and tonight he was not smiling. He was thinking while pretending he wasn’t thinking. It was obvious even from the other end of the establishment. Jack had felt pity for him back then, just as he felt pity now while reliving the memory.<br/>
Ianto’s fingers nervously tapped the countertop, but his take-out order didn’t respond to their call. Instead he was being forced to wait whilst Jack was hitting on a waitress in a far corner. Of all the places to get food, they both wound up here. Sometimes fate just wasn’t fair to Ianto, Jack thought as he approached the other man. Actually, it seemed fate had it in for poor Ianto, but that was a thought Jack didn’t like. It slowed the scene playing out around him, conflicting memories confounding the chip. The blip was minor as this memory won out. Besides, things were going to work out tonight for the Welshman.<br/>
A well-placed smack on Ianto’s back and nervousness was quickly replaced by annoyance.<br/>
“Hey Ianto,” Jack said with a toothy grin.<br/>
“Uh, Jack,” came the uneasy reply. “So, um…”<br/>
Jack laughed as hard as he had the first time. “Relax. A night off shouldn’t be stressful, you know.”<br/>
Sometimes these memories were difficult. There were so many other things Jack wished he could say now, so many things he’d rather do, but changes to the script weren’t allowed. He always had to reenact things as they had happened, no improvements.<br/>
“Right. Well um.” Ianto spread out his hands before pushing himself away from the counter, and then came the smile. It was fairly disarming and Captain Harkness got a full view of it. “Have a good night, Jack.”<br/>
It was his turn to feel slightly nervous. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected at the time. The smile had thrown him and there didn’t seem to be any clues to how Ianto really felt. At least Jack couldn’t see them back then. He felt compelled to explain the situation. “She’s been flirting with me for two weeks and finally dumped her bodybuilder boyfriend last night, and—“<br/>
The younger man waved him off.<br/>
“I know how this works,” Ianto said calmly. “I get it. And Marissa should be a good shag, if what I’ve overheard here is true.” His smile got bigger, betraying the feelings Jack now knew dwelled within. “You’ve mentioned her before, you know.”<br/>
“Well, yeah, you know, don’t want you out of the loop,” Jack said, pretending this wasn’t awkward. Ianto was managing better than he was. “Good to know you understand. Don’t want things to be weird.”<br/>
The take-out order was finally ready. Their conversation was halted as the food was paid for.<br/>
“Don’t come in too early tomorrow,” Jack said as Ianto turned to leave, bag in hand. “Might be a late night for me.”<br/>
The news was handled well, all things considered. Ianto stopped and looked back at Jack. The smile was gone, his lips sucked in. The expression was well-known now, but had been foreign back then. There were things Ianto wanted to say, but felt he couldn’t.<br/>
They stood there. Both were waiting for the words to come. Ianto looked around briefly before stepping closer to Jack. His voice was almost a whisper as he spoke. “Just, um, if you could not wear your coat while you’re, um…” he cleared his throat as if he couldn’t say the actual word.<br/>
Jack smiled. “Only wear it for you.”<br/>
Relief was evident by the grin he was trying to reign in. “Right, good.”<br/>
“How about tomorrow night I wear the suit and you wear the coat,” the elder of the pair said with a wag of his eyebrows.<br/>
The young man nodded once before heading to the exit. “Tomorrow then.”<br/>
Jack had to spend the next hour with Marissa, only to discover she wasn’t as broken up with her bodybuilder beau as she’d claimed and that he was a jealous man with a wicked left hook. This was a fault of the alien memory chip replaying this night for Jack—one couldn’t skip over parts. He had to endure her yammering and teasing the whole time knowing exactly how it would end: with lots of frustration and a temporary black eye and broken nose.<br/>
After the incident he called Ianto and that made reliving the whole evening worth it. Not only did Torchwood’s administrator live nearby, he didn’t care about the late hour or why Jack was coming to him. Instead he took it in stride, like always. His patience and understanding more than welcome that night. The pair talked, joked about Jack striking out (or being struck out, as the case had been). And when the words ran out, their lips kept speaking. What had begun as a cool night became quite heated and neither man minded.<br/>
“Jack!”<br/>
The loud voice ended the vision abruptly. Jack scanned his office, frantically searching for what had jarred him from his private escape. His heart was still racing and his skin still felt hot when he spotted Gwen nearing his office.<br/>
“Jack,” she called again.<br/>
He quickly removed the chip from his temple and threw it into his desk drawer as she entered the room.<br/>
Whatever she’d been about to say died on her tongue when she saw her boss. Gwen looked around the office before speaking. “Everything okay?”<br/>
“Yeah, just having a great dream about these triplets I used to know. They weren’t really triplets except on stage, but what they could do—“<br/>
“Right,” Gwen cut him off. “That explains why you didn’t answer the phone.”<br/>
“What’s up?”<br/>
“Rhys had gone for more diapers and said he spotted a blowfish. I think it’s the one we’ve been looking for and, since he’s got work in the mornin’ and that means I’ve got to be home, I was hoping you could hunt it.”<br/>
“Not a problem. Give me the coordinates and go home,” he said getting up. A hunt would probably help with the frustration he was feeling.<br/>
“I’ve already called Mel. She’ll meet you there,” Gwen continued.<br/>
Of course, she called Mel, the woman who’d been prattling on about her brother, Isaac. The ladies seemed determined to get him dating again, or at least shagging. He wasn’t against the idea and the brother was hot, but his feelings for Ianto had made him hesitate. This was the reason the memory of that night at the restaurant had been on his mind lately.<br/>
“And after we might just swing by Isaac’s, if he’s up,” Jack said with a wink. A meeting might lead to a few dates, but it wouldn’t become serious.<br/>
Gwen smiled, probably thinking he was finally giving in. He wasn’t. Jack had just needed to remember how his relationship with Ianto had worked.<br/>
He got it now. Ushering Gwen out with him, Jack left his coat hanging on its rack, just in case.</p><p>Chapter 3</p><p>It had been one of those days for Torchwood again. One of those days that began before dawn and ended after midnight, left blood stains in clothes, good people wiping tears, and every muscle and joint in one’s body aching.<br/>
Jack had wanted nothing better than to go to bed, pass out on the cool sheets when they’d returned to base. He’d sent the others home as quickly as possible for that purpose, but then a thought occurred to him. His eyes had wandered over to his desk whilst Gwen was talking about Rhys and back rubs before she left. They’d flicked, just for a second, over to his desk drawer that contained the memory chip.<br/>
Ianto, he remembered, had given the best massages. The man had had a gift in working out tension in muscles. The mere recollection of those Welsh healing hands made Jack’s body ache even more, begging for relief.<br/>
After he was sure everyone had left and weren’t coming back, the leader of Torchwood quickly retrieved the alien device and went to bed, forgoing his rule of at least keeping it close to the vault. The rule used to be that the gizmo remained inside the vault when not in use, but Jack had been leaving it in his desk for nearly three weeks now. It was more convenient this way and no one had even asked about the gadget since they’d found it and he had supposedly locked it up.<br/>
Jack slipped under the covers, already feeling more relaxed now that he was off his feet. He lay on his front, preparing for what would come. As usual, he closed his eyes as he placed the chip against his temple and slipped into a memory on this very bed.<br/>
The moan escaped his lips instantly as Ianto’s fingers dug into the tight Trapezius muscles. His thumbs were rubbing little circles in them, easing out the tension. He’d used some lotion tonight. It warmed as he moved it over Jack’s flesh, making the elder’s shoulder muscles feel even better. If he wasn’t Torchwood’s administrator, Ianto could have easily made it as the team’s official masseuse.<br/>
In fact, on this particular night, Jack had toyed with the idea of offering him just such a promotion until he remembered he was supposed to be mad at the younger man. Ianto had given Gwen the location of the asylum for rift victims. Jack had told him their colleague didn’t need the information, had been quite clear on the matter. Somehow she’d discovered it the next day and the only person Jack had told about it had been Ianto.<br/>
It had been during a date months prior, the atmosphere had been just right; intimate and warm. The conversation had been flowing freely, trading secrets with smiles. The asylum had been on Jack’s mind at the time and he couldn’t resist revealing its existence that night. The story seemed drawn out of him.<br/>
Ianto had a way of getting Jack to talk by simply listening. He didn’t demand details or stories. There was never a deluge of questions. Ianto would sit there, letting Jack speak his mind or share an experience with minimal prodding and remarkable acceptance. He made it too easy to open up sometimes.<br/>
The expectation, of course, had been that those stories would remain between them. Yet, when Ianto disagreed with keeping a secret from Gwen, he’d had no problem betraying his boss’ wishes. Jack should have known something was up with how playful Ianto was being after Gwen had interrupted them. There was a certain understanding regarding how their relationship worked, but Jack had expected a slightly different reaction when he’d mentioned naked hide and seek.<br/>
That was 24 hours ago, at least in this memory. The back massage had been offered when Jack had returned from the island. He’d taken it as a subtle apology for the betrayal.<br/>
Another moan of pleasure as those skilled fingers worked into the Latissiumus Dorsi muscles. They were rubbing out pain Jack hadn’t realized was there, but felt relief in the area now.<br/>
The release wasn’t going to last long. They had fought that night. Jack knew any minute now he would, as he had back then, mention “apology accepted” and find out Ianto had no remorse for his actions. The massage was simply him being thoughtful because Jack had looked sore when he had come back to their headquarters.<br/>
“Can’t even begin to guess how you get such a knot right here,” Ianto said, almost to himself. This was Jack’s cue.<br/>
“Apology accepted.”<br/>
The hands stopped but remained where they were. “That’s not what this is.”<br/>
Jack felt the soft sigh feather across his back more than he heard it. Then Ianto’s fingers were moving again. They were kneading the muscles with more force now, but it still felt good. Their rhythmic motions kept Jack’s temper sedated.<br/>
“I know you told Gwen, even after I expressly told you she didn’t need to know.”<br/>
“I left a GPS with the island’s coordinates on her desk. That’s all,” came the soft reply.<br/>
“That’s all? I told you—“<br/>
“I told you she deserved the truth. She wouldn’t have stopped looking until she found it. Why is it so wrong for her to know you have a heart?” His thumbs manipulated more flesh.<br/>
Jack could feel the weight on the bed move as Ianto shifted position for better access to the lower back.<br/>
“That’s not the point.”<br/>
“Jack, I’m not always going to agree with you or do what you want just because we’re…” Ianto’s hands slowed as he searched for the appropriate term to describe their relationship. Jack’s mind had already supplied the word “together,” but the amateur masseuse seemed hesitant to use it.<br/>
Now that Jack thought about it Ianto had always been reluctant to put a label on their relationship. It hadn’t been a “relationship” until Jack had said it was. Before then, it had been an “arrangement” between two lonely men. There was no telling how long Ianto would have avoided calling them a couple if Jack hadn’t mentioned.<br/>
The scene blurred as Jack’s mind wandered. The revelation of how careful his partner had been about defining their relationship was jarring. Ianto had once said he knew how their relationship functioned, but had apparently been concerned that Jack saw it differently. He remembered that on this night Ianto had never come up with a term.<br/>
“If you expect me to go along with you all the time, you might as well be shagging yourself,” he had replied instead. The memory was back in full force.<br/>
“That’s not what I’m saying. But when I tell you things, I don’t want you telling everyone else.” Jack paused, deliberating on what else he should say. Ianto’s massaging fingers, still at work despite the argument, made the decision easier. “I confided in you, Ianto. I trusted you.”<br/>
“I know,” was the soft response. Those two words managed to convey an understanding of exactly what Jack had said. The tone was almost reverent, acknowledging what it meant for Jack to have shared the information about the asylum in the first place.<br/>
Jack closed his eyes.<br/>
“Why do you think I was so insistent that you check on the place? Why do you think I could only give her the GPS?” A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he continued. “Sometimes you need saving from yourself, Jack. You’re going to end up an island too, if someone’s not there to help.”<br/>
That had been his goal, of course. After the tragedy that ended the last Torchwood, Jack had been trying to be less attached to the new group. He’d refrained from asking personal questions—a fact Ianto pointed out during the Lisa Cyberwoman debacle. His involvement in the lives of his team members had been limited from the start; just enough to convey caring and encourage trust without ever being invited over for dinner. For years it had worked fine. Then Gwen came with her questions about relaxing while on the clock and people getting together after work for drinks. She had this subtle way of suggesting the team be closer, more open with each other.<br/>
Jack had been able to resist a lot of her prodding. His detachment had been holding until Ianto weaseled his way past Jack’s defenses. He was finding it harder to be completely objective about missions and people. The former time agent and con man felt more and more for the aliens they found locked up; beautiful creatures unlucky enough to slip through the rift to Earth and become test subjects or meat. Somehow Ianto made it easy to care again.<br/>
Of course, that was dangerous and Jack knew it. He had always known it. One day, everyone in Torchwood would leave him and he’d be broken again, like always. It was better to be that island, far removed from those emotions that would eventually tear into him.<br/>
Ianto wouldn’t let him be alone, however. He had always kept him landlocked, so to speak. After they began their “arrangement,” he had always told Jack what new project Tosh was working on or the latest story from Owen. He had managed to learn a lot about the team and that wealth of knowledge was shared with one Jack Harkness, whether he wanted it or not.<br/>
“Guess that’s why Torchwood has you,” Jack said. Even now, he cringed hearing the words. His response had come out sounding flippant, a casual reply during an intimate moment.<br/>
“I thought it was the suit.” Ianto’s hands made their way to Jack’s thighs, deftly loosening those muscles with ease.<br/>
Jack didn’t say anything in return. He concentrated on the movements of talented fingers. Ianto stayed focused on his task.<br/>
As the memory progressed in comfortable silence, Jack realized another thing he missed about his former lover: Ianto often knew when to let things be. He knew when to leave Jack be.<br/>
Tonight they wouldn’t talk until Ianto was finished and all tension had been relieved. That would be awhile from now, Jack knew. Ianto had always given thorough massages and this one had been given with considerable care. It had always stood out in Jack’s mind as the best.<br/>
When Gwen had mentioned Rhys’ wonderful back rubs, he had thought of this night. His bed had been calling for him, but with the chip working so well, he couldn’t resist using it to heal his aching body. It was hard to tell while in the memory, but Jack already knew from experience that the relived memories had fooled his body more than once. A remembered massage could work as well as a real one once had.<br/>
So far, he had no reason to complain.</p><p>Chapter 4</p><p>Gwen had turned into quite the mother hen and Jack had little patience for it right now. She had come into his private space to see why he wasn’t answering her calls. It wasn’t a surprising move considering she’d threatened to do it the past three times this had happened.<br/>
There had been weevils to catch and another pterodactyl had been spotted in the previous two months. Not to mention that the base had been having electrical problems they still couldn’t seem to fix. They’d been happening for months now, but no one could find exactly what wire or circuit kept shorting. It was beginning to affect their computers.<br/>
While Jack felt the rest of the team could have dealt with the situations on their own, Gwen had lectured him several times about how they were new and needed guidance and help and blah, blah, blah. Apparently he was supposed to be on call for their needs, especially because Gwen had her own child to tend to.<br/>
Jack had soothed her as best he could without revealing why sometimes he didn’t respond to phone calls late at night. His common excuse was that he was becoming a heavy sleeper. He certainly didn’t tell her about the alien device lying next to his bed or all the times he’d escaped to the arms of a man alive only in his memories.<br/>
She’d accepted his claims with a scowl. It was like she knew he was hiding something but was willing to play along. He’d been smiling more often than when he put Torchwood back together. Jack had gone out with Isaac a few times, had a couple flings with some women or so he’d said. He had a renewed focus on Torchwood and the work they did. Day by day, the ol’ Captain Jack was returning. They were good reasons to turn a blind eye to his occasional unreliability. Until tonight, of course, when Mel had to call her because Jack wasn’t answering his phone yet again. It had been a rather chaotic night at the Williams residence and the added disturbance from Torchwood had been far from appreciated by mother Gwen.<br/>
Her frustration had led her straight to Jack’s room, where she discovered him sprawled over his bed with the memory chip stuck to his temple.<br/>
He had been ripped out of a very steamy memory to see Gwen standing over him. She didn’t wait for him to adjust to reality before giving him what for. Her anger made the events a bit of a blur. He was sure she’d slapped him at least once, but her words were coming out too fast for his mind, still in a memory-haze, to follow.<br/>
“Gwen, will you just calm down?” That was the wrong thing to say. Her speech slowed down so he could understand her, but the hostility was tangible.<br/>
“Calm down? Jack, you’re using alien technology and ignoring the people who care about you, who need you. You know this is wrong,” she said still holding the chip between her finger and thumb. Gwen waved it at him accusingly. “How many times do you warn us, Jack? How many times do you say ‘Trust me, it’s dangerous’ and all this time you’ve been strapping this to yourself?”<br/>
“That,” he pointed at the device, “doesn’t hurt anyone. And it’s none of your business what I do on my time.”<br/>
“Your time? What about Torchwood’s time? What about all those nights I’ve had to leave Rhys caring for a crying baby because you couldn’t answer a call and Mel or Andy needed help? What about my time, Jack?”<br/>
He rolled his eyes. “I give you plenty of time off to spend with Rhys and your kid—“<br/>
“His name is Ianto. Why won’t you ever call him that?”<br/>
Jack ignored the question, not liking its answer. “I’ve been more than generous to you and everyone else here. I want a little time to myself and you act like it’s a sin.”<br/>
“This isn’t what Ianto would have wanted. You know that. Let me lock this up,” she pleaded with him.<br/>
“Ianto’s dying wish was not to be forgotten so don’t tell me what he would have wanted,” he said through clenched teeth.<br/>
“This thing isn’t going to bring him back. You have to let him go.”<br/>
Jack let out a vicious laugh. “You think I don’t know that. He’s dead, Gwen and he’s never coming back.”<br/>
“What you’re doing—“<br/>
“Is my business. No one gets hurt. Nothing bad happens. Why don’t I deserve something for everything I put with? You get Rhys and family. Mel has her brother. Andy has what’s-her-name. Who do I get?”<br/>
The brunette shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes. “You got us, Jack. You always have.” She took a step closer, searching for understanding. “You don’t need some bloody chip and memories; you have real people who care about you.”<br/>
“Give me my chip back,” Jack said, outstretching his hand.<br/>
“No, you don’t need this.” Gwen turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm.<br/>
“You forget I’m your boss. Now I’m ordering you to hand over my property.” His grip was slightly tighter than it needed to be to keep her from exiting, but he wanted her to understand the situation. He would only let go when he had the chip.<br/>
“Jack,” she started to say, but stopped when she saw his expression. There were no words to change his mind, no actions to make him see reason. Gwen looked down at the cause of the problem. The device practically glimmered even in the dark room. It looked so innocent, so harmless, and so hard to break. A tiny square of metal that had made Jack happier these last several months, hadn’t it?<br/>
“There’s always a price,” Gwen warned him as she placed the chip in his waiting hand.<br/>
“I know,” he said while releasing her arm. “I always pay it.”</p><p>Chapter 5</p><p>The woman had been on Jack’s case again about the damn chip. He’d barely used it this month and Gwen kept acting like it was the reason he refused to go over to her house for dinner. Every week was a new invitation from her. She was trying this recipe or Rhys was grilling that or they had splurged and bought an expensive dessert he simply must try. Even the others, oblivious to the motivation behind her requests, had begun urging him to go over.<br/>
The truth was that he was keeping a good distance from everyone, like he had meant to with the other team. He kept Ianto in mind when he asked questions about their lives outside Torchwood, but there were no afterhour-get-togethers. There was a specific limit to his interest about his team. It was a safe and subtle gap between coworker curiosity and actual friendship. There was no one around causing him to close that gap this time.<br/>
Except that Gwen was becoming a nag attempting to do just that.<br/>
He laid down in bed, and savoured the peace and quiet. She had finally left, gone to be with her family again. Mel was having Andy and his girlfriend over tonight for games. They were going to meet Isaac’s new boyfriend, who just happened to have a coworker perfect for Mel. Pretty soon they’d all have somebody to go home too.<br/>
Jack shook his head, trying to lose the sadness threatening to close in. Despite Gwen’s persistent needling (or caring, as she liked to call it), today had been a good day and he wanted to keep his good mood. Keeping a distance was right, he knew that. It just meant painful loneliness from time to time. He had to be careful with that; it was by feeling alone that had brought him and Ianto together. There certainly didn’t need to be another instance of him searching for solace in someone and becoming ridiculously attached. Of course, that first conversation about the prospect of finding some casual companionship was always a nice memory.<br/>
The Captain glanced at the metallic sliver of alien hardware beside his bed. Gwen would be furious if anyone needed his help and he was occupied, but there was no harm if she didn’t find out. Besides, he felt he deserved it after dealing with her for the past week without using the chip.<br/>
Jack gently picked up the device, closed his eyes, placed it on his temple and was whisked away to a warm memory.<br/>
He was placing the latest artifact they’d found inside the vault. The others had gone home a couple of hours ago, content to let him play around with it once they were a safely away. Nothing had happened despite his efforts. The small sphere refused to work. It looked like it had been made out of wicker instead of metal, dozens of tubes or cords circling each other to make an airy ball. He’d tried several different techniques when he’d finally noticed a tiny chip out of one cord. The object was apparently broken.<br/>
That’s what it said in the report on his desk. A few more notations and a signature and it’d be complete, ready for Ianto to file it away in the morning. Or he could do it tonight since the man never seemed to leave the Hub.<br/>
Before the discovery of Lisa, Jack had believed Ianto went home like everyone else. He had seemed to leave at the same time as everyone else. Now the truth was known: he was really sneaking around the place. Somehow, after he’d been hired, Ianto had smuggled his girlfriend into the base and secretly cared for her. It was an impressive feat since Jack did live in the headquarters, mere levels above the Cyberwoman’s room.<br/>
After the truth had been revealed and Lisa killed, Jack had expected Ianto to go home like the rest of the team. There seemed no reason for him to stay later now. Torchwood’s boss had made it a point to thoroughly inspect every level of the Hub the very next night. Instead of finding the place empty of colleagues, he had found Ianto working.<br/>
It’d been two months since the incident now and still Ianto stayed longer than anyone else. Jack had had a hunch there was a lot of pain hidden underneath the smile and suits. When Tosh talked about what thoughts she overheard while wearing the alien pendant two weeks ago, his suspicions were confirmed.<br/>
Jack knew from the background check that Ianto had family: a sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew. At first, he’d thought the Welshman would visit them more, but he hadn’t and it became clear to Jack that Torchwood was all the young man felt he had left.<br/>
They had that in common and as much as Jack wanted to simply kick Ianto out of the depressing building, he never did. He could understand the loneliness, the feeling of being lost and clinging to one thing that once made sense. These were familiar to him.<br/>
So, he’d let Ianto stay as long as he was awake. In turn, Ianto would brew him coffee or help with late night experiments without complaint. He gave Ianto space to do his work and Ianto made his whereabouts known. At first, they completed their tasks in relative silence, mostly keeping their distance while finding comfort in the knowledge someone else was in the Hub. As the days and weeks wore on, there were brief conversations, but nothing deep or serious. The exchanges were uncomplicated moments filled with light talk and occasional laughter, making it easy to forget the circumstances that kept them there. It was a simple unspoken deal brokered by lonely men.<br/>
There was a knock on his door. Jack gestured for Ianto to come in as he sat at his desk, reaching for the report. He preferred to appear to be as busy as Ianto did when it was just the two of them.<br/>
“Sorry to bother you, sir. I wanted to make sure you didn’t need my help before I sterilize the lab,” said Torchwood’s unofficial custodian. “Owen pointed out a few more places which need attention so it’ll take me longer than last week.”<br/>
“Not a problem, the thing was busted. You didn’t happen to see a small piece of alien metal when you were cleaning downstairs, did you? It would have been about this big,” Jack demonstrated the size with his fingers, “same colour as the sphere we found.”<br/>
“No.” Ianto shook his head until a thought occurred to him. “Do you need me to dig through the trash and look?”<br/>
“Nah, who knows where it broke off, but I appreciate the offer.” Jack couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the obvious relief of the other man. “Hey, think I could get a refill before you start the lab?”<br/>
Ianto grinned as he crossed the room to retrieve Jack’s coffee cup. “You never seem to get enough.”<br/>
The tone was teasing. There was a certain playfulness in his eyes as he neared the desk. Jack wished he could pause the chip right there, savour that look again. He remembered how long it’d taken Ianto to find it again, the joy inside.<br/>
Despite everything that had happened, everything Jack had done, their flirting had eventually continued. They’d been dancing with their attraction since the beginning, as far as Jack could tell. Ianto’s moves had been rather discreet, disguised by a smile. Jack’s had been quite overt, made obvious by his smirk. Then Lisa had cut in, or resumed her place on the floor as it turned out. Afterward, Ianto had been hesitant to get out there again, especially with Jack. Understandably, he’d had issues with taking up the old routine with the man who had ordered his girlfriend dead even if the move itself was warranted.<br/>
It had taken awhile, three weeks in fact. Then during one of their late night work sessions, Jack had made a mild comment and Ianto had actually smiled a bit. It was all the invitation Jack had needed. He’d been pressing more every night since and Ianto had taken to his old steps with ease, like he’d been struggling with two left feet the whole time. Their rhythm was still subtle, set to a tune only they could hear playing in the background. It made their evenings more comfortable. After a day of the heavy burdens and strains that were normal for Torchwood, their nights were often light, fun even.<br/>
“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Jack said, leaning over his desk while keeping eye contact. “If it’s good, shouldn’t you always want more?”<br/>
“I guess so.” Ianto paused as he reached for the cup. He was leaning closer to his boss than necessary for his task. A smile was still playing on his lips, turning coy as his proximity to Jack had a desired effect. Captain Harkness’ breathing had slowed, slightly suspended by anticipation for what would happen next. “I already have some freshly brewed for you, sir. Knew you’d want another soon.”<br/>
“Brains and looks,” he said in response. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”<br/>
Jack watched as Ianto, as he had done the first time this happened, straightened up almost immediately. The smile became a little tighter, a litter smaller. He put his hand on the mug but didn’t pick it up, struggling through some inner conflict. Meeting Jack’s gaze, he made a decision. “Why do you keep me around?”<br/>
The query was spoken gently, but it wasn’t light. Looking into those eyes, Jack could see how important the answer was to Ianto. This wasn’t the first time he’d wondered about this; it was only the first time he’d dared to voice his uncertainty.<br/>
For once—and he was eternally proud of himself for doing it—Jack didn’t make a joke and degrade the seriousness of the situation. The response options had been clearly laid out in his mind: casual, flirtatious or honest. He’d considered replying flippantly, brushing off the question as senseless or silly. There was the classic comment about looking good in a suit; nothing new but it would probably do the job and have Ianto back to work. He knew which one he’d usually pick, but so did Ianto and yet he’d finally asked.<br/>
“You came back,” Jack said simply. The resulting confused look was anticipated and he calmly motioned for the other man to take the seat across from him. He elaborated as Ianto sat down, their eyes locked on each other. “You could have gone anywhere after Lisa, instead you came here.”<br/>
“I have nowhere else,” Ianto said, sadness tinting his voice.<br/>
“Now that’s a load of crap,” Jack retorted. His bluntness caused his colleague to blink in surprise. “I may not have liked what you did with Lisa—“<br/>
“You put a gun to my head and threatened to kill me.”<br/>
“Yeah, and you didn’t care,” continued Jack undeterred. “You managed to get hired, sneak her in, care for her and still do all the other stuff we made you do—cleaning, filing, manning the counter, errands, hiding Torchwood activities. I mean, that’s impressive, which means you could have gotten a job anywhere else. But you didn’t. No, you come back here, to the place that killed her. Why?”<br/>
“You think I’m up to something again, yeah? That’s why you didn’t kick me out? Or fill me with retcon?” Ianto rose to leave. “You want to know my big secret? Since London, all I had was her, and now there’s nothing.”<br/>
“Sit down,” his boss commanded, standing as well.<br/>
“Why? Why do you keep me here, Jack?” Ianto’s soft voice was gone, lost in his frustration. “So you can make passes at me and hope something happens?”<br/>
“Hey, you never say stop. Not once. I sure as hell noticed that,” Jack said loudly. “You had Lisa in the basement—“<br/>
“I was—“<br/>
“You gave me looks, comments.” He ticked off the evidence with his fingers. “That smile. Looking like you could use a little wild sex.”<br/>
“What?”<br/>
“Oh come on! Ianto, you know you’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it. On this desk, out there.” He watched as the younger man swallowed hard. “In the atrium, the conference room. Some casual fun after a long day. Tell me you wouldn’t have traded your empty flat for that. Tell me you haven’t imagined it. I kept things professional for you.”<br/>
“Professional? Jack, you would have grabbed my ass while introducing Gwen if I let you.”<br/>
“Well, it is a nice ass.”<br/>
Ianto seemed at a loss for words. He simply stood there, frozen in a state of shock. His mouth was slightly open, but nothing came out. Jack knew there was a lot to process and decided to switch topics.<br/>
“You want to know why you’re here?” He gestured to the empty chair across the desk while sitting down.<br/>
“I look good in a suit,” Ianto replied while slowly reclaiming his seat. His voice was calm again.<br/>
“Well, there is that. No doubt about it,” Jack said, smiling. “But looks aside, you can be one major pain in the ass. I was not kidding when I threatened to run you over.”<br/>
“Then I helped you catch a pterodactyl and fell on top of you—“<br/>
“No one should want to come back to Torchwood,” he interjected. “Let’s face it, the benefits can be crap, the hours are terrible and sometimes the rewards don’t cut it. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but even I’m waiting for a ticket out. Then there’s you, Mr. Ianto Jones, who got out. You lost your girlfriend, or so you said. You’d survived through a war, a very bloody and fiery war might I add. All reasons to be glad you escaped. You were free and alive, which isn’t all that common for Torchwood personnel. And for some crazy reason, you tracked me down and insisted I let you back in.”<br/>
“If you knew something was off from the go, why did you hire me?” Ianto leaned toward Jack, resting one arm on the desk. “You could have tracked me then and found Lisa. Why grant me access and not watch me if you knew not to trust me?”<br/>
“Because you were careful the first week, for one.” Jack leaned in closer, his clasped hands inches away from Ianto’s arm. “And you fit in. I didn’t know how this place functioned before you, especially before you starting making coffee. Man, you made that other stuff look like sludge.”<br/>
“Jack.” The name was a soft request for a more serious answer. It wasn’t a demand or even a plea, Jack knew. This was the gentle opportunity Ianto usually gave him: tell the whole truth or continue playing it down. It hadn’t been offered before, but this was the tactic, a simple chance, Jack got used to over time and now missed. There was something about the way his name was said, the tone of voice employed; it was hard to resist.<br/>
“I wanted you here, wanted to believe I was wrong, that you weren’t like me.” He shrugged before placing his hand gently on Ianto’s arm. “It’s not a bad thing, you know. Everything that went down, I mean. You keep coming back, no matter what. I won’t stop you. Figured it’s the at least I could do.”<br/>
“Thank you.” Ianto put his hand on top of Jack’s and gave a light squeeze before rising to leave. “I should get back to work and get you that coffee,” there was a pause, “sir.”<br/>
Jack followed him to the door, passing him the forgotten coffee mug. “You know, you still haven’t told me to stop.”<br/>
Ianto turned, a smile tugging at his lips. “Noticed that too, yeah?”<br/>
Purposefully forgetting to be professional, Jack leaned in and kissed those playful lips briefly. As he drew back, could see no revulsion in his target’s face, he smiled. “You would be amazed.”<br/>
That was the end of the memory. The vision blurred and faded to black, leaving Jack grinning in his empty bed. Tomorrow night he could recall what happened three days later when Suzy was laid to rest for good and Ianto had accepted the casual arrangement with vigor and a stopwatch.<br/>
Gwen would be upset if she knew, but he had no intentions of telling her. Besides, Ianto had never told him to stop.</p><p>Chapter 6</p><p>It was never supposed to be anything serious. That was the rule from the beginning. The offered arrangement was occasional, casual and, in a certain sense, shallow. It was a means to keep sadness and loneliness at bay for a few hours, to feel happy and have fun again. That had been the deal.<br/>
Then he’d requested an actual date and things just slipped from there until he was here, in Ianto’s flat making breakfast… again and thinking of the groceries they’d have to pick up to restock the refrigerator. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought, per se. There was some comfort in the ease in which it all flowed, much like the relationship. Everything happened in its own time, its own way.<br/>
Jack smiled to himself as he flipped the eggs. His partner liked them over easy. The breakfast was nothing fancy; they generally kept it simple. It was mostly eggs and toast. Some days they had an omelet if there was time or mundane cereal when Ianto hadn’t had a chance to go shopping. Once, Jack had made flapjacks to show off his technique. It was in response to Ianto making French toast, showing off his recipe at Jack’s urging.<br/>
This morning it would be the simple fare again. Ianto would be done getting dressed soon enough, in time to make coffee. They’d sit at the table, quietly enjoying the meal. Ianto would have his eggs and toast separate and try not to watch Jack make his into a sandwich with ketchup. Then Ianto would check online for anything of Torchwood interest while Jack took his shower. There was a drawer in the bedroom containing only his clothes now so he could change here. That’s when Ianto would do the dishes. It was becoming a routine whenever Jack slept over.<br/>
This wasn’t an unpleasant revelation either, per se. As much as there was an emerging routine, each man was more than willing to switch things up once and again. Jack liked surprising his partner too.<br/>
Not this morning, however, because they had slept in and Ianto was a stickler for punctuality. They were to be a rather tame couple today, Jack recalled, which suited him just fine. He hadn’t desired a wild morning to slip into tonight. This memory was about reliving the sweeter moments, times when it wasn’t lust or pure passion driving the relationship.<br/>
Today, in painful reality, there had been a particularly nasty mission that tested the team’s ethics and resolve. In the end, the others had looked at Jack poorly, like he was inhuman. He’d overheard Andy asking Gwen if their leader still had a heart, was she sure he could actually love another human being, that he really had loved anyone. When she thought he was out of earshot, Mel had said she was glad he and Isaac hadn’t hit it off. Gwen had had the decently to speak to his face. She said she knew it was a hard decision and she didn’t envy him making it. For all her nice words, the group’s mother hen didn’t ask him to dinner for the first time in a week.<br/>
When he went to his cold, empty bed in the deadly quiet Hub, Jack had considered escaping to a memory of Ianto holding him close, or of Ianto reacting to one of his tales with understanding. He could have sunk into one of the many times Ianto helped him forget the agonies associated with Torchwood or any of the dozens of instances when Ianto had made him feel good about being himself.<br/>
Instead, as he played with the memory chip in his fingers and weighed his options, he had realized what he really needed. The thing he’d missed more than anything else today was someone to simply look him straight in the eyes and say, without a hint of doubt, that he did have a heart. Not that there was a tough decision or that they understood it was difficult for anyone in his position. It wasn’t a pat on the arm, a hug or a deep kiss he longed for at the end of today. He wanted the reassurance that he really could use his heart, the one he seemed more than capable of ignoring in the right circumstances.<br/>
A smile had begun to emerge as he thought of all the times he’d been there for Ianto, all those private instances when he’d opened up to the man. Ianto had told him more than once he had a heart, and there were many times Jack had actually proven him right.<br/>
This memory had been one of those times. It began the night before, after they’d burned the night performers and managed to save a lone little boy. Jack had turned up at Ianto’s flat, with an offer of dinner and a movie at the Electro. He’d checked that they were going to be showing a film that night.<br/>
Ianto had been wary before agreeing. It had been a tough day for him; spirits tainting his love of film and only being able to rescue one soul. He took these things harder than Jack and had been content to recover from the day’s events in his safe home watching TV. Unfortunately for his plans, Jack had been persistent with his request and kept sweetening the deal with promises of where they’d eat and who would pay. According to Captain Harkness, feeling sad wasn’t acceptable behaviour that night. Mr. Jones, he had playfully ordered, had to smile again. Jack wouldn’t allow him to hold back from enjoying a treasured activity from his youth, just because their job tarnished it. He wouldn’t just let the younger man hurt. It was with a heavy sigh Ianto had relented; Jack made sure he didn’t regret the decision.<br/>
That night, they ate at Ianto’s favourite restaurant. Jack went into detail about why he was in the travelling show, enjoying the play of expressions on his partner’s face. Then came the theatre and it was Jack’s turn to listen and be enthralled. Ianto described the trips with his dad, explained how the place had changed over the years. He shared tales of his family and growing up with a man who was not a tailor, to be honest. Jack took the admission in stride, showing the same courtesy the other man always gave him. He could tell it was appreciated. When they left, Jack told him about the first movie he’d ever seen. They ended up at Ianto’s without ever setting a specific destination. There, Jack asked more about Ianto’s sister and her family and was rewarded with a photo album. Ianto dared to ask Jack about his Doctor and was treated to a few tales of daring and sacrifice, being lost and returning home.<br/>
“And Captain Jack’s heart exposes itself again tonight,” Ianto had said. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed… for a price.”<br/>
“I’ve read your diary, remember? I have all sorts of embarrassing things on you,” Jack had mockingly threatened. The pair had playfully bartered for the other’s discretion; each man upping the price of humiliation with a laugh until they couldn’t recall what had begun the negotiations. That realization hadn’t hindered their fun, of course.<br/>
They had gone to bed soon after, but didn’t go to sleep right away. It was probably why they hadn’t woken up to Ianto’s alarm clock like usual. Jack didn’t mind, not then or now. It wasn’t often Ianto slept longer than he did; he was generally pulled from slumber by Ianto getting out of bed, already heading for a shower. When he opened his eyes this morning, Ianto’s arm was draped over him and their warm bodies were pressed close together. It wasn’t how they’d fallen asleep, but it was a nice way to start the day. He could feel the soft breathing against his neck, could tell the moment his bedmate woke too.<br/>
There was a half-hearted suggestion of them both calling in sick and maybe visiting a certain sister, and an answering smile and kiss placed at the base of a neck. Ianto wasn’t comfortable enough with their relationship for that yet. Jack wasn’t eager to go meeting family either. Though in that moment, he wanted the opposite to be true. He wanted them to be void of their hang ups already, for the offer to be normal. Ignoring everything he knew, Jack had dared to want that morning to be a normal morning, the kind regular people had. No burdens of Torchwood waiting for them, no distractions like one of them living forever while the other neared their end, nothing ahead but them being themselves with their whole lives.<br/>
As he mentally kicked himself for his selfishness and foolishness, he’d rolled over to see Ianto propping his head up with his hand, his elbow digging into a pillow. And the look he saw on his partner’s face, the emotion displayed in those eyes, made that moment of insanity okay. Better yet, he could believe Ianto had the same feelings. Clear thought quickly returned then and even that wasn’t so bad, they still had each other and a future there.<br/>
It was a shame the memory was almost over. There was a fair bit left to do in the morning, but they were efficient. No task would take long. He only had maybe 20 minutes to savour today, and then he’d be back in the Hub alone, waiting for people who may still think of him as cold-hearted to arrive.<br/>
Focusing on the illusion, he slid the eggs onto the waiting plates as the toast popped up. His timing was impeccable. Unfortunately Ianto wasn’t in the room to be impressed; he wouldn’t make his entrance until the plates were on the table.<br/>
Two slices of toast were buttered quickly; his two were left dry. On a whim, he fished out some Black Cherry jam from the fridge and spread it on Ianto’s toast. There was time for at least one surprise this morning after all.<br/>
“Ianto,” called Jack, carrying the hot food over. He didn’t need to shout; the younger male was about to leave the bedroom. At the time, of course, he hadn’t known that. “Ianto!”<br/>
He came out smiling despite the summoning. His dark tie was getting a final tug as he entered the room. The scene was savoured, Jack especially liked this ensemble with a black jacket and pants, and a red shirt. Ianto noticed his partner’s focused attention. “I know. I look good in a suit.”<br/>
“You look good out of one too.” They both laughed.<br/>
Jack got a quick peck on the cheek before Ianto set to work on the coffee. They drank and ate in comfortable silence. Ianto managed not to roll his eyes when he saw the egg and ketchup sandwich. Then Jack was washing up and changing, enjoying how organized Ianto kept his drawers.<br/>
All too soon, they were ready to leave. With a smirk, Jack adjusted Ianto’s tie. With an indulgent chuckle, the other man let him. They looked at each other then, and the scene dissolved.<br/>
Jack stretched on his bed, feeling good. Oddly, the sheets across the bed were warm to the touch. He knew he had never moved during a memory trip before, but conceded that it was still possible. A quick scan of his room revealed he was still alone. It was disturbing, though.<br/>
He looked at the alien device, inspecting it for any changes. The metallic square looked exactly the same. Maybe the movement was a side-effect of overuse. Jack had never planned on using it this often; he could stop at any time.<br/>
After all, this was never supposed to be anything serious. That was his rule from the beginning. It was to be occasional, casual and, admittedly, shallow. It was a means to keep sadness and loneliness at bay for a few hours, to feel happy and have fun again. That had been the deal.<br/>
Jack wasn’t slipping. At least, that’s what he told himself.</p><p>Chapter 7</p><p>Gwen and Jack had seen a lot in their tenure at Torchwood and they knew one had to prepare for the unexpected. However, neither of them had even remotely considered that one day they’d find what appeared to be Ianto Jones sitting ever so patiently, ever so real and not dead, with a cup of coffee in the conference room of the new Hub in the early morning hours.<br/>
They had seen a figure waiting at the table when Jack went to meet Gwen at the door. He’d gotten into a habit of trying to get to her as quickly as possible at the start of every day to keep her away from his personal quarters. The closer she got to them before the rest of the team arrived, the more she’d insist on different tests to run on the memory chip. Gwen had realized his strategy early on and had begun trying to sneak in to the Hub. It had become a fun game, but this was a twist.<br/>
The former dead man innocently rose to greet them when they entered the room. He wasn’t scared by the guns aimed at his head, didn’t flinch really when they’d barged in. There was anxiety present while they yelled at him. Their words tumbling over each other’s so their instructions were incoherent. Still he remained relatively calm, slowly raising both hands to signify that he meant no harm.<br/>
“Jack,” he managed to say with the same voice as his visage before a bullet cut him off. He cringed as he gripped his shoulder, looking properly terrified.<br/>
Gwen glanced over at her boss before returning to the injured trespasser. She had never known Jack to be a quick shot. He usually displayed a bit more discipline rather than firing on an unarmed individual because of something he said.<br/>
“Who are you,” demanded Jack, cocking his gun for a second shot.<br/>
The possible imposter sank back into his chair, his hand protectively holding the bleeding wound. He seemed to consider what to say. His eyes searched that of Gwen and Jack, looking for help and finding none.<br/>
“I am,” he began slowly. “I am… god, I don’t know. I’m me. I swear to you, I am not a threat, but I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t know… how this is happening.” Tears were forming as his face contorted with personal agony. “Please don’t shoot me again. Please believe me, Jack. Gwen? Please?”<br/>
Both members of Torchwood shared a look, gauging the other’s resolve to continue pointing their gun at the injured, crying man before them. It was so easy to fool themselves into seeing Ianto, the facial expressions matched as did his speech. They had even seen him don that very suit before. In fact, it was the same suit he’d worn the last time Jack had used the memory chip. In every way, this could have been their fallen colleague except that he was alive and losing blood from a gunshot.<br/>
“Who are you,” repeated Jack, stepping closer. He scanned the area around the Ianto-look-alike, but there didn’t seem to be any weapons near him. There weren’t any obvious booby traps or anything out of place. Even the cup of coffee cooling on the table seemed to belong there; it did look like the kind Ianto preferred.<br/>
“I told you.” His tears were falling freely.<br/>
“Who are you,” shouted Jack, seemingly unmoved.<br/>
Gwen approached from the other side of the intruder. Her attention was drawn to the wound. The blood oozing out was hard to see on the dark suit jacket, but obvious on the hand trying to cover the bullet hole. Red liquid was coating the palm which periodically applied pressure to the shoulder, attempting to slow the bleeding until the pain was too much. It wasn’t a fake injury.<br/>
“I don’t know what else to say,” the target said, frustration creeping into his voice. He’d stopped crying as the emotions altered.<br/>
In the distance, they could hear the alarm sounding, alerting them to the arrival of at least one of the other team members. None of them paid any mind to the noise, focusing instead on the situation.<br/>
“Don’t make me shoot you again,” warned Captain Harkness, clearly aiming his gun at the man’s head.<br/>
“I told you. I’m trying to tell you, Jack,” he replied. His voice had become hard, the way Ianto’s usually did when he was fairly confident in what he was saying. Jack and Gwen had heard the change before, the commanding tone appearing whenever Ianto needed it. A surprise the first time they’d noticed it, the switch was unsettling now. “I am Ianto Jones. And I know that doesn’t make sense because I know I’m dead. The 456 killed me with a virus and I died in your arms. I remember that.”<br/>
His voice softened a bit as he continued. “I remember Gwen fiddling with my tie until you finally lead her from the hall, but it’s like I’m outside my body at the time. Maybe something got in me. Maybe it’s the rift. I don’t know, but shooting me won’t help. And it hurts.”<br/>
“How did you get here,” Gwen asked. Her steady voice disguised the shivers she felt inside.<br/>
“I don’t know.” His voice was quiet again. “I woke up in an office in this place about twenty minutes ago. No idea how I got there. Lights were flickering a bit. I wandered around, saw this room, then found the coffee maker and made coffee. I figured I’d wait in here until someone came. Then I heard you. Heard Jack’s voice. Knew this was Torchwood.” A smile made a brief appearance. “I thought it best if I waited here. I didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want anyone hurt. That’s the truth.”<br/>
Ianto stared at Jack, demanding he make the next move. Gwen lowered her gun a little, but didn’t put it away. She too was waiting for what their leader would do.<br/>
Mel entered the room, gun drawn. “Who’s he?”<br/>
“We don’t know,” said Jack as he finally dropped his weapon to his side. Ianto turned away then, hurt by his words. “Bring him to the infirmary. He’s been shot. And while you’re at, run every test you can think of on him.” He noticed her gun still aimed at the seated man. “You can put that away. He won’t hurt you.”<br/>
Ianto grimaced as he rose and made his way to Mel, eyes carefully avoiding Jack’s the whole time. He was silent as they left, merely gesturing that he would walk infront of her. The route to the infirmary was unknown to the accommodating prisoner, but he kept his pace slow to allow Mel time to give direction.<br/>
Gwen and Jack followed further behind, keeping enough distance to discuss the situation without the other pair hearing. Their conversation consisted of shared looks for most of the walk.<br/>
“Is it him, Jack?” Gwen finally whispered. “Is it Ianto? Is that why you used that chip so much? It was bringing him back the whole time?”<br/>
“We don’t know that,” he replied, but the statement lacked confidence. “He could be anything.”<br/>
“Anything or Ianto,” she spat, glaring at him as they entered the infirmary. He had no response. They remained silent while Mel began working on her patient.<br/>
She checked the through-and-through bullet hole before cleaning it thoroughly. The wound was patched up with practiced efficiency. Then blood was drawn, hair and skin cells collected. There were no objections from the subject; he complied with each request and suggested other tests.<br/>
He undressed in the same order as Ianto did and avoided looking at anyone as he laid down on the examination table. Jack paid close attention while Mel inspected the nude body, just in case he could spot something out of place she wouldn’t. He was ready to shout “imposter” if even a mole was different, but everything matched his memory. The weight sounded right, as did the height. There was cold pit forming in his stomach as the assessment continued.<br/>
While gathering the physical data, Mel asked numerous questions. Having no idea who the man was, her initial inquiries were general and the answers reflected their simplicity.<br/>
He said his name was Ianto Jones, knew his age, and had worked for Torchwood before, two years in London and almost three in Cardiff. His relatives’ names were known, as well as where he had lived. All of his responsibilities at Torchwood were recited with ease, as were his relations with Gwen and Jack. He wasn’t sure what year it was or where he was, aside from it being a Torchwood facility.<br/>
When Mel went to check the results of the blood and DNA tests, Gwen took over the questioning. She asked him about different missions they’d been on, how to take down a weevil and the proper procedures for hiding any bodies associated with Torchwood. He answered all flawlessly, even making jokes here and there. Their old camaraderie came naturally as he reminisced. Gwen couldn’t help but smile at times, forgetting that the man before her might not be Ianto. He made it too easy.<br/>
“What did you say to Owen about his coffee mugs,” she asked, trying to hold back laughter as she recalled all too clearly the day Ianto had had enough of their medical officer leaving cups all over the base.<br/>
“I told him, politely, that if he didn’t start putting them where they belonged or at least keeping track of where he left them, I would start hiding his equipment anywhere I liked,” he said with a smirk. “And when he suggested it didn’t matter where he forgot them, I may have suggested that I’d shoot him again, and it wouldn’t be in the shoulder.”<br/>
Even Jack chuckled. He hadn’t been there for the confrontation, but he knew that Ianto mad could be quite the sight. Ianto had told him about it later and the anger had still seeped out.<br/>
The patient’s smile shrunk as his expression turned pensive. “You know, I don’t really remember talking to Owen. I mean, I know what happened and what was said, but I just remember telling Jack about it.”<br/>
That pit in Jack’s stomach grew.<br/>
Gwen thought a moment, going over all the questions they’d asked. “Remember when it was just you and me stuck in Tosh’s time lock when Jack was helping The Doctor fight the Daleks?” She waited for the corresponding nod. “What did we do to pass the time?”<br/>
“We played card games,” he shrugged. “There was a deck by the couch and, um, um.” There was a pause as he concentrated harder to recall the details. His eyes met Gwen’s. “I don’t know what we played. I don’t even know what the cards looked like or where we sat. It’s like I know we did play cards and we had fun and that’s it. And then Jack comes back and asks what we did, I said ‘cards and talked about how The Doctor would be in bed.’ That’s crystal clear, but our time… it’s a bloody blur.”  A shaky hand rubbed his mouth as the man tried and failed to remember more. “Oh god, what’s happened to me?”<br/>
“Maybe nothing,” Jack suggested, hoping this was a sign they were dealing with an imposter. “Maybe you’re not you after all.”<br/>
“There is something wrong with his memory,” Gwen said, giving Captain Harkness a pointed look. They hadn’t told the others about Jack’s use of the alien memory chip and she was careful not to say something now. If the device and this situation weren’t related, a careless comment could lead to problems. She continued, in case her glare failed to get the message across to its intended recipient. “Though, his memories with you, Jack, seem fine.”<br/>
Mel returned with the results and a worried expression. “Boss, Gwen, you need to take a look at this,” she said, hiding the reports in a folder away from the subject’s curious gaze.<br/>
“You don’t move,” Jack instructed the other man when he got off the exam table. Succinctly reprimanded, he started dressing instead.<br/>
Once the pair had joined her, Mel began, “I can’t explain any of this. I’ve double-checked everything and it all comes back the same.”<br/>
“Which is,” prompted Jack.<br/>
“That man is Ianto Jones. Nothing’s out of sorts. Everything from his file matches… except for the part where he’s not supposed to be breathing.” Mel showed the findings as she went. “Boss, I even did a quick scan using the cameras in here, and he looks just the same as you or Gwen. Not one filter shows different. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he’s Ianto.”<br/>
“Huh,” was all Torchwood’s leader could muster while looking at his previously deceased partner, the information slowly seeping in.</p><p>Chapter 8</p><p>Jack had never imagined this would be a problem. In all the possible scenarios he’d considered happening because of the memory chip, this one had never popped up. Gwen hadn’t thought of it either, judging by the shocked expression on her face. She had been rather vigilant in her search for negative consequences too. It had become almost second-nature for the young mother to look into any odd occurrence and try to link it to the device she loathed. She’d gone through everything and given Jack several headaches trying to convince him to stop using it, but this hadn’t even been hinted at.<br/>
Gwen had warned him that one day the chip might get stuck, trapping Torchwood’s captain inside a memory forever. She had conceived it might affect the rift, but was unable to connect the two. There were suggestions of it corrupting Jack’s mind, destroying memories or distorting the distinction between the past and present. She hadn’t ruled out nerve damage either.<br/>
Ianto coming back wasn’t an option. It wasn’t even considered a million-to-one shot miracle.<br/>
But that didn’t stop him from existing or eating. The team had him sitting in the lounge area while they convened in the conference room. Gwen had been careful to remove Ianto’s coffee cup before she began telling Mel and Andy that their recovered memory chip might be responsible. Andy quietly took everything in; he’d been to Ianto’s funeral and that made the situation harder to comprehend.<br/>
They kept an eye on the man in question from their windowed meeting room. He was having a sandwich, while watching them. Both parties were trying to figure out what to do.<br/>
Ianto had to be informed as to what was happening, but they weren’t sure what it was. His memories relied on Jack’s memories of him, which singled out the alien device as the culprit. Andy had connected the Hub’s electrical problems to days Jack remembered using it. The upset weevils lately all tracked with its use. A quick call to the cemetery revealed Ianto’s grave was undisturbed. It seemed the chip had recreated the ex-Torchwood employee somehow, possibly related to electricity and their proximity to the rift. At least what had happened appeared somewhat clear; what would happen was the problem.<br/>
“You have to talk to him, Jack,” Gwen said, folding her arms over her chest.<br/>
“And tell him what?” he shouted back. “He’s made of memories and we don’t know how long he’ll live? If he’ll just disappear? Sorry ‘bout that?”<br/>
“You can’t just let him sit there.”<br/>
“For all we know he’s fading away right now.”<br/>
Andy looked out the window closest to him. Ianto was finishing the sandwich, eyes locked on the conference room. “Nope, still there.”<br/>
“Jack.”<br/>
“Gwen, I already watched him die once.”<br/>
“I know,” she said gently. “He remembers it too. And he remembers Torchwood procedure; he knows he’s not leaving here until we know what exactly is going on and that it’s safe.”<br/>
“Then you talk to him,” he ordered.<br/>
“I didn’t bring him here,” she responded coolly. “You owe it to Ianto to talk to him, and you’re the only one who’s going to do it.”<br/>
“Is that so?” Jack crossed his arms, attempting to call her bluff.<br/>
“Yes, it is.” With that she turned to the others, effectively dismissing their boss. “Andy, take a closer look at the electrical fluctuations. See if they grew in intensity or if they were consistent, might help us figure out how long this’ll last. Mel, I want you to contact any doctor specializing in memories. We need to know what that chip could access. Is everyone clear?”<br/>
“What are you going to do? Stay here to give me a time out if I don’t talk to him?” Jack said behind her.<br/>
She remained unfazed. “No, Jack, I’m going to Ianto’s storage locker to get him some more clothes since he might be here awhile. When I get back I’ll call Martha, maybe she’s heard of something like this before.”<br/>
Then Gwen left, Andy and Mel following quickly behind. Jack sighed; none of this was supposed to be happening. He stood in the empty room for a few minutes before making his way to a window. Ianto had finished his sandwich and was staring up at the ceiling, his head resting against the back of the sofa. The Welshman looked bored and alone.<br/>
Ianto chose then to glance over and saw Jack. There was an attempted smile, really just a tug at one corner of his mouth, and then a simple wave. Then he went back to studying the high ceiling, but Jack’s resolve was slipping away.<br/>
Feeling that Gwen had a point and Ianto was owed at least something, he headed over to the other man. Their conversation wasn’t like their usual talks. It was awkward and stilted. Each man kept their hands clasped in front of themselves. There was space between their bodies; an uncomfortable canyon separating them. Ianto’s excellent listening skills didn’t encourage Jack to keep talking, as it had done in the past. The strangeness enveloping their discussion forced the information out, pushing Jack to compensate for the silence from Ianto. He confessed everything he’d done since Ianto’s passing, the use of the chip and what they knew about the situation. Every damning detail came spilling out, but there was no sign of understanding or acceptance in return. He held nothing back, while Ianto gave nothing away.<br/>
Gwen’s return was a reprieve for them both. Ianto was collecting his belongings and asking for a tour of the facility in a flash. A dejected Jack sat on the couch, giving his consent to Gwen playing guide with a wave of his hand.  He didn’t watch them walk away, didn’t want to know if Ianto didn’t look back. The temptation to be angry with Gwen for making him follow her suggestion was there, but the sadness he felt was stronger. He’d expected anger or tears, had hoped for a pat on the knee or a strained smile. The lack of emotion had hurt. Ianto’s accompanying rush to get far away from him had cut him to the core. He had failed Ianto, and he had no clue how to fix things.<br/>
Captain Jack Harkness was a man of action, however. Sitting on that couch wasn’t going to solve his problem so he composed himself and set out to find Gwen and Ianto. If Ianto wanted to be left alone, he would have to say so. The younger man hadn’t told him to stop yet, and Jack found some hope in that.<br/>
Ianto and Gwen were tracked to a nearby storage room. They were laying out some clothes in the cramped space. An underlying blanket was placed to help keep the suits clean. The pair was obviously surprised by Jack’s arrival.<br/>
“I’ll handle the rest of the tour,” he said to Gwen. “You have better things to do and it is my responsibility.”<br/>
She took the hint and, with a sly smile of approval, left.<br/>
Ianto didn’t look grateful for the switch, but said nothing. Jack decided to change that.<br/>
“So, where to first?” He tried his most charming smile, and rubbed his hands together. “The holding cells or my quarters? They both have beds, but mine’s nicer.”<br/>
There was a mild success. The other man smiled despite himself.<br/>
“Hey, we could stay here if you like,” Jack continued. “I can’t guarantee your suits won’t get wrinkled, but it’s always worth it. Trust me.”<br/>
“I believe that’s gotten me in trouble more than once,” Ianto said coyly.<br/>
“Oh, but worth it.”<br/>
The youngest of the pair discreetly looked around, checking that no one else was nearby. “Definitely worth it, but, um, I should get the layout here. Holding cells would be best to start, yeah.”<br/>
Jack swallowed his disappointment and kept the smile firmly on his face. “They’re this way,” he said pointing.<br/>
The rest of tour continued in the same manner: Jack being charming and trying to resurrect their relationship, and Ianto giving in a little only to withdraw into himself again. It was a frustrating trend but those glimpses of what they once had coming back kept the elder man motivated. In fact, they fueled his ambition, encouraged him to try harder. Every room they saw, those passing moments were getting longer. Whatever was holding the Welshman back was losing its grip.<br/>
“And this brings us to the end of the tour, my quarters,” Jack said stepping into the room with arms spread wide. Ianto stayed in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets.<br/>
Jack gestured to the bed. “As advertised, the bed is—“<br/>
“You didn’t keep anything of mine, did you,” asked Ianto, catching him off guard. “There’s nothing here for me.”<br/>
“Well, no. I don’t usually do that, keep stuff from people...” He trailed off, watching his companion nod once before pushing away from the doorframe. “It’s not—“<br/>
“It’s okay, Jack.”<br/>
The expression on his face said otherwise. It was apparent he was hurt, trying to hide it with a smile that didn’t have enough energy to stay put. He gave up and turned to leave.<br/>
“Ianto.”<br/>
“It was just a dream, Jack.” Ianto stopped and looked at the other man, meeting his gaze. “I know that you dreamt about… me.”<br/>
The captain’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard. “You remember all the dreams I’ve had of you?”<br/>
His mind raced, recalling all the fantasies he’d had involving his partner. He was pretty sure there weren’t any that would be taken as offensive. Some were odd, maybe a bit much to take in all at once.<br/>
Ianto shook his head. “No. It’s a bit blurry but I think they’re ones you had after I had, um, died. You saw me as angry and, um, blaming you.”<br/>
Jack knew those dreams only too well. He had left Earth trying to escape them. Every time he thought of his fallen love, the vision of a furious Welshman accusing him of abandonment, cowardice and murder had begun to appear. The fictitious version had demanded he stand instead of running, admit his guilt instead of hiding. He’d returned to Cardiff and reformed Torchwood to appease those disturbing dreams. It had taken the memory chip to help him see the other man as he had been, warm and caring rather than cold and full of hate.<br/>
“Like you said, only dreams,” Jack said, not knowing what else to say. It seemed his friend was trying to comfort him, but was really the one most distressed.<br/>
“It’s hard. To think that I would think those things. You must hate me.” There was that half-hearted grin again. “I’ll leave, as soon as possible. I’m sorry for… for all of this.”<br/>
Jack approached the distraught man, pulling him into a hug. He encountered some fleeting resistance, but quickly felt the younger man sink into the embrace. In their arms was forgiveness for both men. “This isn’t your fault.”<br/>
Ianto pulled away. “It’s not yours.”<br/>
“Have I explained the memory chip?”<br/>
“In detail,” replied Ianto. A smile was teasing his lips. “I thought you were prattling on because you were mad and didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid to say anything, in case you kept going.”<br/>
“I kept talking because you didn’t say anything,” Jack laughed, feeling a weight lifting. He enjoyed the warm smile spreading across Ianto’s face. It seemed like forever since he’d seen it in person. “Man, I was trying to think of every little detail when I was showing you around too.”<br/>
“So… we’re okay?”<br/>
“I am if you are.”<br/>
“You know, Jack, you still forgot to mention one important thing on the tour.”<br/>
“Really? What’s that?”<br/>
“Where is your coat?”<br/>
They shared a laugh, then a look, and then a room.</p><p>Chapter 9</p><p>It was a gorgeous day. A cool, sweet breeze was in the air with a bold, hot sun in the clear blue sky. The weather brought families to the massive park; a siren’s call to people previously cooped up indoors for days because of rain. Smiling children laughed while playing on the equipment or kicking a ball in the open field. Parents gathered together and relaxed, happy their kids finally had the freedom and space to run around. This was the kind of day marketing personnel would use to promote the beauty of Wales. It was something worth capturing on film so it’d never be forgotten.<br/>
Gwen couldn’t enjoy it too much though; this was a mission. As far as Torchwood assignments went, this one was rather tame. There was little danger lurking in the public location, certainly none from her target. At least no obvious physical threats were present; the emotional minefield, however, was pronounced. It had been tugging at her heart the moment the orders were handed out. The second she realized what might really be going on was the instant it started tearing her inside.<br/>
There was another rip when she spotted him, confirming her fears. It would have been better if he weren’t here. If there were no sign of him at all, it would have been heart-wrenching and she would have cried until there were no tears left, feeling guilty for ever entertaining doubts about him. The team would have been devastated and she couldn’t begin to imagine how horribly it would have crushed Jack or affected Torchwood. But it would have been better. Believing in a disappearance would have been better than knowing it was an escape.<br/>
But that’s what this was, his being here proved it as much as she’d prefer to deny it. He was sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the park, his back turned to her approach. His eyes remained fixed on the children playing in the distance. No attempt to move was made as she sat down beside him. Only a heavy sigh acknowledged her presence.<br/>
She was supposed to be miles from here, but then again so was Ianto. He had left the Hub four hours ago and failed to inform them of his change in plans. Jack had been beyond worried when his partner didn’t return after three hours.<br/>
This wasn’t Ianto’s first unescorted trip from the base. Though he was banned from participating in missions, he’d been out alone twice before and had managed to return unscathed and on time. He wore a tracking device to assuage fears of something happening when no one was around.<br/>
The worry was that his existence was temporary and one day, he’d vanish into the thin air that had recreated him. All tests still came back showing he was alive and well, but no one could guarantee that his final exit wouldn’t be as swift as his reappearance. He had had to do a lot of wrangling to get Jack to agree to let him go out on his own. The tracking device was part of the agreement and he’d wear it with a sly smile, promising Jack a chance to find where he hid it upon his return.<br/>
Jack had still breathed a sigh of relief both times Ianto had come back, intact. The last time his partner had been mysterious, claiming to have gotten something for Jack and planned on picking it up during his next solo outing. The intriguing promise had the captain looking forward to Ianto’s trip, believing more firmly that his love would not be taken from him again.<br/>
And then today three hours passed without a word from Ianto and the tracking signal’s location became stagnant.<br/>
Captain Jack Harkness, former time agent and member of the End Of The World Club, had sprung into action. It was a rescue operation, he’d said, with clear conviction. He would go to the signal and check the surrounding area, find out if anyone had seen Ianto. There was a chance he was fading in and out of reality; there was still hope.<br/>
Mel and Gwen were instructed to search places Jack remembered Ianto had frequented in the past and knew their addresses, or was beginning to visit to replace the stores he couldn’t enter anymore. Andy’s job was to monitor police frequencies and listen for reports of odd behavior by anyone matching Ianto’s description. If it was a simple matter of the tracking device being lost and Ianto not realizing the time, he might be found alive. Mel would look at suit shops while Gwen was supposed to take theatres and electronics stores. It was a good strategy since the Ianto they were searching for had limited knowledge.<br/>
As they’d discovered during his stay at the Hub, this Ianto lacked his own memories. He knew what the original Ianto had told Jack while alive, and had read his predecessor’s diary. There were things he knew seemingly because Jack remembered it as integral to his character. He could make coffee with ease, but couldn’t remember how he knew it. Cooking, cleaning, working computers and understanding Torchwood procedures were simple tasks. They could be performed with little thought, almost second nature. Most of his childhood was missing though. He couldn’t remember how he’d lost the company car, or fallen for Lisa, or found Jack in the first place. His sister’s address was a mystery to him. It was frustrating, searching for information he couldn’t find, but he had tried to move past it.<br/>
Jack had ordered that no one fill in the blanks for the man. He had said it was to see if things would come to Ianto in time, if he could retrieve facts on his own. Ianto had agreed, saying that he understood it was better this way.<br/>
He’d been at the Hub for three months with little complaint. His nights were spent with Jack; days were spent doing the tasks he’d had before, excluding missions. Chores had become the focus of his working hours. He asked if his sister’s family was okay, but that was the extent of his research into things he knew he couldn’t have anymore. Familiar places and people were off limits; they couldn’t risk anyone else seeing a dead man walking about. He had accepted this, finding a new common ground with Jack who was used to the rules of resurrection.<br/>
The only moment he demonstrated his frustration was when he was left alone with the memory chip. Jack had turned his back for a minute, but that was all Ianto needed. One minute, the device was shining in his hand. The next, he’d grabbed a pair of pliers and bent the metal square until a tiny piece broke off. Jack had demanded an explanation; Ianto had said he was ensuring nothing else from memory suddenly popped up.<br/>
His unexpected destructive display ruined any chance of further testing the alien object, but no one faulted the young man for his actions. He had been so understanding about the situation, the rules he had to follow, and the limits placed on his freedom that the team let it slide. Ianto had become a loyal and valued member of Torchwood again, and the others were reluctant to condemn him for wrecking the device that had put him in his unenviable situation.<br/>
About a week in, Jack had started taking him outside. They were dates to new restaurants and sights which only lasted a few hours, but any time spent beyond the cold walls of the base were savoured. The relationship was as vibrant as ever and Torchwood was enjoyable, for the most part. Breaks from work and the relationship could be painful, as Mel often filled those moments with new tests. Still he displayed his usual understanding through it all.<br/>
All in all, Ianto had seemed happy, smiling and joking about his predicament. Lately, he had made comments about figuring out his place in Torchwood again and finally feeling like he fit in the world. Things were looking up. He had even begun hinting that he and Jack take a trip somewhere far from Cardiff and everyone who knew Ianto was dead. It was going to be a vacation with just the two of them and opportunities for many new memories.<br/>
That had been the plan presented to the team, at least. It had been the way things had appeared to them. The wonderful illusion had made everyone smile and feel good, and was still real for the others. They were off searching for that Ianto, the one who had no desire to run or leave or be here, in this park, shattering that beautiful mirage for Gwen.<br/>
She looked at Ianto. He was in plain clothes, the suit having been discarded sometime after leaving headquarters. Jeans, T-shirt and light jacket were the ensemble now. It seemed strange that he appeared comfortable in the attire; she had an expectation that at any moment he would reach to adjust a tie that wasn’t there. He didn’t.<br/>
Of course, he wasn’t really doing the expected today.<br/>
Gwen had almost gone to those shops looking for him when Andy had piped up.<br/>
“You know it’s a good thing Jack has such a great memory. Maybe it comes with not dying, no brain cells go either. I know I can’t remember everything anyone tells me,” he’d said, looking at a map of Cardiff. “I’d probably have you at the bay, not realizin’ he said he hates water.”<br/>
That’s when Gwen considered being misled, when the tiny seed of doubt reared its ugly head. There was a chance they were looking in the wrong areas. They were checking out the bay, believing he got lost there, when he had no intention of being at the bay. Maybe he wouldn’t be anywhere they thought to look because they weren’t thinking right.<br/>
Ianto had a mobile phone and would’ve called if anything happened to him, unless he just vanished. In which case, it made no difference where they looked. If this wasn’t his expiration date coming due, then odds were he purposely didn’t call because he didn’t want to be found.  The tracking device could be a decoy. He wouldn’t be hiding where they knew to look.<br/>
Gwen didn’t share her thoughts with Andy. The rest of the team could keep their romanticized version of Ianto until she knew the truth. There was little reason to taint that image or hurt Jack with this possibility.<br/>
If this was an escape, she knew where to look first. This Ianto was made of whole memories, entire moments filed away in Jack’s brain, not just what Jack could remember. It meant that Ianto could have, in fact, gone to see his sister if he had ever told Jack whereabouts she lived. Maybe he didn’t know the street address, her last name, and maybe he knew he shouldn’t be there. But Gwen knew a determined Ianto was a force one should never underestimate; all he’d need would be a tidbit of information and his heart pushing him forward.<br/>
And Ianto’s heart wasn’t set in procedure or escape tactics. It would be geared to see loved ones a final time.<br/>
“She lives two streets down,” Gwen said, breaking the silence. When the 456 had attacked and the government was forcibly taking children, she’d had to find the house. Luckily Andy had been there, ready with a car and access to such information. Rhys had talked to him while she had found the address. They had passed this park on their way. “It’s a nice home.”<br/>
“Is that where Jack is?” Ianto asked, keeping his eyes on the kids in the park.<br/>
“No, there’s no trap set for you.”<br/>
Finally he looked over at her, gauging her honesty. “I didn’t mean it like that.”<br/>
“Ianto,” she began, not entirely sure how she’d finish. She wasn’t sure what to say.<br/>
“Please don’t call me that. I’m not him.” His attention returned to the children, hoping to catch a glimpse of his niece and nephew. “I’m just the memory of who he was.”<br/>
“That’s not true,” Gwen protested. “You’re very much him.”<br/>
He let out a humourless laugh. “I’ve tried for months to be him. I can’t keep doing it. I’ve got to get out.”<br/>
Something caught his eye and he smiled. Mica and David had entered the playground. They were difficult to see from so far away, but they were there. Rhiannon and Johnny weren’t far behind. The family looked healthy and happy even from a distance.<br/>
“So much better than a memory,” he said. His eyes lit up the same way they always did when he talked about his niece and nephew. Ianto was a proud uncle, somewhat distant because of Torchwood, but close in spirit. “They look good.”<br/>
“If you’re not Ianto, why do you care?”<br/>
He shrugged. “Because this is what I am.”<br/>
“And what’s that?”<br/>
“What he seemed to be.” </p><p>Chapter 10 </p><p>Ianto had left the park without looking back once. He hadn’t spared a final glance at his family, or at the woman flowing close behind. Seemingly indifferent to what she would choose to do, he had stood up from the bench and walked away.<br/>
Gwen caught up to him on the sidewalk outside of the park. Passersby might have mistaken them for two friends on a leisurely stroll, basking in the glorious weather and content in each other’s company. He smiled at strangers and had slowed down, allowing her to keep pace. Their shoulders nearly touched as they walked.<br/>
“So, you’re leaving then?”<br/>
“Yep.”<br/>
“Just like that?”<br/>
“Just like that. Jack will find the tracking device in an alley. He might find one or two people who saw me go down it. It’ll be like I magically disappeared.” Ianto smiled. “Believe it or not, I really covered my tracks. As long as you don’t tell him different, he’ll never know.”<br/>
“You think you’re that good? That Jack won’t tear this city apart looking for you?” Gwen glanced at him, noting the confident smile, the peace. “He’s doing it right now.”<br/>
“You do realize one of my jobs has been to hide bodies, yeah? Conceal the truth from the public,” he said, laughing softly. “I’m a pro. This is what I do.”<br/>
“It’s what Ianto did,” she corrected him, trying to use his logic against him. “If you’re not him, you’re not as good as he was. Jack will find something.”<br/>
“He’s not here,” he retorted. “You didn’t bring him. He didn’t find anything. As far as he’ll ever know, that memory chip only worked for so long and then I went right back where I came from.”<br/>
Ianto oozed confidence, not even suggesting Gwen would reveal the truth to Jack. He didn’t even look at her as he continued.<br/>
“Everything goes back to how it should be and I find my own corner of the world to live, away from Torchwood, the rift and everything else. It’ll be good.”<br/>
“What about Jack,” she tried a different approach. “I know you care about him, possibly love him.”<br/>
He stopped and turned to face her. “Why do you think I stayed this long? Why do you think I’m leaving?”<br/>
“If you care about Jack, you can’t leave him,” Gwen stated, resting her hand on his arm.<br/>
The strange show of self-assurance washed away, leaving a sad, uncertain Ianto. He looked toward the heavens, searching for answers in the clouds and giving up when he found none.<br/>
“I can’t stay because I care. Because Ianto loved him. And this isn’t… I’m not him, and this isn’t right,” he said, searching her eyes for understanding. “His life took years, his loves… that’s not what I have. My history is months old, that’s all.”<br/>
“You don’t know how much like Ianto you are,” Gwen tried to reassure him. “I know you’re not him, but you are him in so many ways. When I talk to you, I feel like I’m talking to Ianto. I mean, I am. Do you not understand?”<br/>
“You don’t understand,” he sighed. He grabbed her hands and gently held them. His thumbs tenderly stroked her skin as he thought. “Imagine you could remember every moment you spent with Rhys with crystal clarity. Every single second you and he were together, even if it was just standing apart in a room. You know every detail like it’s ingrained in your mind. Except it’s all from his perspective. Every memory is his: how you looked, how you were, what you might have been thinking. Imagine if you knew exactly what he thought of you every time you were together. That’s all I’ve got.”<br/>
Gwen gasped as she realized the implications. To know what Rhys was thinking when she was hiding Torchwood or trying to fit in a dress that was too tight or how she was in bed.<br/>
“I know what makes Jack happy. The things Ianto did that attracted him, that he loved. I could be the best Ianto ever and know precisely how to keep him smiling and laughing and loving everything. But I don’t think that’s what Ianto would want, and I don’t want to be here just for Jack,” he said, letting go of her hands and shoving his own into his coat pockets. “He sees through the act here and there; I can tell. I know him better than he knows himself. I know how he felt about his relationship with Ianto better than he does. I know how he felt about Ianto, how he felt about you. And I know that one day the mask will slip and he’ll see the masquerade for what it is. I don’t want to hurt to him.”<br/>
“Leaving him will hurt him. Maybe if you talk to Jack, explain things,” she suggested.<br/>
He shook his head. “I’m here because of how much he was hurting, because even the memories were painful. They’re not anymore; I’ve made sure of that. But telling him? Ruining the lie we’ve created, that makes him happy? I can’t do it. He’ll handle it better this way, and he’ll have all of you to help him. Keep asking him over, yeah.”<br/>
“Ianto…”<br/>
“I’m not him; I’m Jack’s memory of who he was and that’s not enough.” He started walking again. “I know you’re here to bring me back, but that’s not what’s best.”<br/>
Gwen sighed. This wasn’t an escape attempt. It was a release.<br/>
“What will you do?”<br/>
“Leave Wales. Find out what else Ianto could do. Change my name so you won’t find me.”<br/>
She wrapped her arm around his waist, an improvised hug as they walked. He put his arm around her shoulders, giving a light squeeze.<br/>
“What am I supposed to tell Jack?”<br/>
“The truth: you didn’t find Ianto.” </p><p>Chapter 11</p><p>Jack was yelling again. He yelled a lot these days.<br/>
Gwen had handed him a report of alien technology discovered in a building complex and he didn’t like how Mel had handled the find. It seemed to Gwen that he didn’t like how a lot of things were handled lately.<br/>
His dissatisfaction had begun when they were unable to locate Ianto and had to label him dead again. Gwen hadn’t revealed seeing the man off a week ago, leaving Jack to grieve for his lost love for a second time. Unlike the first time, the Torchwood leader didn’t try to leave the team or stop their work. Instead, he’d become focused on their missions, which lead to much yelling. They weren’t as focused as he was, or so he said.<br/>
The other complaints ranged from not following proper safety procedures to not filling reports properly to not cleaning the hub to his new standards to not making coffee right. It seemed there were many unacceptable practices in Torchwood since Ianto had vanished.<br/>
“Jack, she did her job right and you know it,” Gwen shouted back.<br/>
“If she had done what she’s supposed to do, that box would be intact and there wouldn’t have been goats,” he went on, slamming the folder on his desk. “I tell her to be thorough about things and she doesn’t. I don’t know why she’s here.”<br/>
“She’s here for the same reason we are.”<br/>
There was a knock at the office door.<br/>
“We’re busy,” shouted Jack.<br/>
Andy came in undeterred. “I was working on the Ianto case.”<br/>
“It’s closed.”<br/>
“Went back to where the signal was at, asked the shop owners some questions.”<br/>
“I already did that,” Jack said, making no attempt to hide his annoyance.<br/>
“I was thinking about how Ianto had ordered something and might have been on his way to get it.”<br/>
“We asked every employee at those shops if they’d heard of Ianto Jones. We showed them a picture.”<br/>
“And then I asked one fellow if he’d heard of Torchwood. He said ‘no,’ but there was an item for a ‘T.Wood’ that hadn’t been picked up.” He pulled a small box from his coat pocket. “Said his brother might have taken the order, no contact information left and the brother’s now on vacation. Just been sittin’ there. Fully paid for, but no one came for it. Said it was a shame because it looked like a gift, been engraved to a ‘Jack.’”<br/>
Andy handed the box over. “I think it’s meant for you.”<br/>
Jack took a deep breath before opening the little container. A gold stopwatch was nestled on white padding inside. He gingerly took it out, remembering Ianto muttering about losing his stopwatch before he’d disappeared. The Welshman had been quite perturbed, convinced someone had nicked it at Thames House after he’d passed away.<br/>
Turning the watch over in his hand, Jack read the inscription on the back: “Jack, time how long it lasts.”<br/>
It was a cryptic message, one only he understood. Gwen and Andy were waiting for an explanation or at least for him to say something about the find. He vaguely recalled them still being in the room.<br/>
“Jack?” asked Gwen, drawing his attention.<br/>
“It is from Ianto. Was,” he corrected himself. “Thanks Andy.”<br/>
Jack sat down on his desk. His fingers traced the etchings in the gleaming golden surface of the stopwatch. A sweet memory played in his mind.<br/>
It was their first night together and Ianto was explaining the purpose of his stopwatch, as it related to them. The device wasn’t to stop time or focus on when something ends. It was to measure how long the good feelings were there and if things were done right, one would forget to stop the watch.<br/>
With a bittersweet smile, Jack could remember how very often they left that watch running, its presence completely slipping their otherwise occupied minds. He couldn’t count how many times Ianto stopped it because it couldn’t last as long as their happy moments could. They out-lasted the stopwatch a lot. Jack chuckled softly to himself; they had out-lasted a fair bit. Theirs was an occasional fling that morphed into a relationship able to briefly survive death and the odds. They had had quite a run. As Ianto had said, “it was good.”<br/>
Flipping the watch over again, Jack looked at its polished face. Ianto was gone, but certainly not forgotten. The memories were warm and welcome again, but they weren’t a crutch as he thought of them. They were a thick blanket, able to provide comfort from the cold. He had Torchwood again, and Gwen and Andy. Somewhere in the Hub, Mel was about probably cursing his yelling but riding out the storm for her “Boss.” They were there for him. Looking up, he could see concern evident in his friends.<br/>
“Is that dinner invitation still open,” he asked Gwen. He laughed at the quizzical expression on her face. It took a moment for her to nod. He was done yelling. It was time for something else. “Good.”<br/>
“What are you doing,” Gwen asked as he pressed the knob at the top of the stopwatch.<br/>
Smiling, he looked at her. “Letting it run.”</p>
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